Look Again, Stabler
by Ink'd
Summary: Life for Elliot Stabler has never been something simple an affair, a serial killer, a nymph lover? This is one hell of a ride. Original Character added Rabid MarySue , semiooc Elliot, rated M for Language and over 18 content added later.


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Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Law and Order:SVU and/or its respective characters. But if I did.. :3 oh if I did... - ink'd

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"I can't help it," she said, her long fingers tracing figure eights into the palm of his rough calloused hand, "why does it even matter? We both know that there's chemistry between us."

He pulled his hand away and pressed his palms against his eyes, "I have a daughter only 5 years younger than you!"

Audrey Miora, 21, sat with Elliot Stabler, 43, side to side in a booth in the back of Joe's Diner at 3 in the morning.

"But I'm not your daughter, that's the difference."

"I'm still old enough to be your father," he spoke to the linoleum coated table.

"Oooh daddy," she spoke in a joking tone as she ran her foot up his leg.

"Stop it," he said moving to the edge of the booth, "it's not funny." His tone was cold and solid.

"I'm sorry, it was a joke. Elliot," she said and he looked up, his soft brown eyes meeting her vibrant green ones, "Elliot, I am a legal, of age, adult. I can drink, I can drive; I live on my own, isn't that enough?"

"That's not the point, Audrey," he said, looking back down at the table.

"Then what is?! You're always sending me these mixed signals and it's driving me crazy."

"10 years ago you were 11 years old, I was 33. When I was your age now, you weren't even born yet. I can't have those types of feelings for you, Audrey; I ARREST people for acting upon those impulses."

"Yeah, Elliot, acting on them with 11 year olds; it's acting on them with 5 year olds; with children too young to understand what they are doing. I am not 8 years old and we haven't done anything immoral. I am a young, vibrant woman who is completely hot for you," she said moving closer to him on the cheap vinyl seat, in Joe's Diner where they met 6 months ago, and now met for coffee after his shifts and her classes. "I am an adult, a consenting woman who is within your grasp, but slipping away fast," her heart was racing, "if you want me, take me," a smile crept across her lips as she remembered the pressure and the sweetness of his lips pressed against hers, "but Elliot, if you don't," smile faltering as she thought back to how his face had paled when he pulled away. "If you don't, Elliot, if you don't, then you need to tell me, because I can't stand the ambivalence anymore. I physically can't take not knowing; being pulled in one direction and then pushed to another," tears welled up in her green eyes, watching Elliot Stabler intensely.

"I… can't," Elliot said with an expression that was completely indifferent.

"You can't or you don't? That's the biggest question."

"I don't."

Her face fell as the tears escaped her eyes and ran silent torrents down her cheeks as she got up from the seat, looking down to Elliot, who wouldn't meet her eyes, and said in a choked whisper, "I'm sorry," turned and ran out the door and into a cab before he could blink. Or maybe, sitting there alone in the diner booth, clutching the napkin in which several of her tears had fallen, fists white-knuckled, pushing his emotions deeper and deeper below his surface, maybe time had just slowed down.

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**(Had some problems with past/ present tense wording, so from here until the next border, is all a flashback in Elliot's memories, so no one gets confused)**

She had shaken his life like a snow globe from the moment she had walked into it. Strutting in her relaxed jeans, AC/DC shirt, listening to an iPod with her bright red hair, practically glowing in a messy bun, her black rimmed, square glasses sliding down her nose; a college student at 2 AM. She could have been mistaken for one of Maureen's friends, as she sauntered over, coffee cup in hand asking to borrow some sugar. He handed her the cup of sugar packets, and watched her walk back to her booth and started typing on her laptop. For about a week, he saw her every night, always in the same booth, always with her iBook, and always, it seemed, without sugar. She'd walk over, music playing in her headphones, completely immersed in her own world, paying little to no attention to Elliot, if not for those 5 words, he wouldn't have even known what her voice sounded like. Finally, one day as she got up from her own booth, carried her iBook in hand and stood at his table side until he looked up, smirking slightly she said, "So, are you ever going to ask me to join you, or am I just going to have to keep stealing your sugars?"

And that's how it went for nearly half a year; they'd meet in the diner after their respective responsibilities, and share the stories of their day. She told him about college, and her childhood as well as discussed politics and religion, clashing with Elliot's profoundly Christian background. Despite her appearance, she was exceptionally mature for her age; she read Nietzsche and went to beat poetry readings, she played the stocks and lived alone. Both her Mormon parents disowned her when she walked out of an arranged marriage to a polygamist, the only family she really had left was, her older brother currently serving in the army. Audrey always wore a pair of his dog tags and wrote to him every day. She had a passion for tattoos and spent hours tracing his USMC tattoo on his forearm and standing up, showed him the two puzzle pieces she had tattooed on her hip bones, just below the line of her jeans; because she was "missing pieces to her life." He chose to ignore the fact that his blood quickened at the sight of her skin. The only real connection that showed her age would have been her dependence on her iBook, which never left her side; her choice in fashion, and her somewhat idealistic views.

Then everything changed, around Christmas, a full 4 months into their friendship, she had brought a small flask of brandy with her to the diner and spiked her coffee. Audrey kept flashing him her ID and swearing she'd take a cab that it was the holidays and she'd just finished exams; poking fun at his badge. Needless to say after a few coffees she was right sloshed but she surprised him by how gracefully she hid her drunkenness. Of course there were times when she'd giggle and not be able to stop, and moving from one area to the next, unaided, required some fancy footwork, but she wasn't noisy, or obnoxious, nor did her words slur too terribly. He smiled a warm smile whenever a word did string together, because she'd get flustered and try again. Elliot had insisted that he drive her home, the bus being out of order, and not really trusting her judgment skills in a cab, it was simply the gentlemanly thing to do.

"I'm perfectly fine, Detective Stabler," her words almost slurred as she wobbled up the stairs to her apartment, and with clumsy fingers, fumbled for her keys. She found them at the bottom of her purse and trying to get them into the door, dropped them. He picked them up and as she reached out to take them again, tripped over loose hallway carpeting, or her own feet for that matter, and fell forward. Thinking quickly, Elliot dropped the keys and caught her in his arms. Audrey giggled and nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the delicious scent of him; coffee, aftershave and sweat, feeling the tight muscles of his chest under his shirt, the raw power of his arms around her. "Elliot," she whispered against his neck, her lips buzzing against the tender flesh residing there. His tense shoulders relaxed and his arms drooped down resting softly around her waist, a warm hand placed on the small of her back, holding her someplace between pushing her away and pulling her in close; holding her in temptation. "Audrey, I…" he started to say, but was cut off by her grabbing him by the front of his leather jacket and backing into her door, pulled him in close. Their lips met like fire, the soft smell of mint from the Burt's Bee's Chap Stick that she wore, the sharp scratch of the 5 o'clock shadow creeping onto his face; the gentle pressure of her teeth against his lower lip, nibbling on the soft skin in between her kisses. She smiled against his lips and kissed down his neck, placing gentle pecks against his ear; a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks as he closed his eyes.

Before this, each time they brushed across each other, reaching for the cream, exaggerating a point, brushing each other knees, arms, hands, her soft fingers on his forearm, his rough thumb on her hips, it had always sent an overlooked thrill up their spines, but this, this was fire. This was all consuming fire, devouring them as he gripped her tighter, as her arms went around his neck and her tongue between his teeth. Maybe that's what woke him up; the sharp taste of the brandy on her tongue brought him down to reality.

She was 21, drunk and he was taking advantage of her. Suddenly his stomach did a flip-flop and his brain condemned him. He pushed her away, being met with a hurt look of confusion and sadness registering on Audrey's face. He mumbled an apology and then silently, Detective Stabler of the NYPD, picked up her keys, opened her door, ushered her inside, turned and left.

His mind raced with the ramifications of what had just taken place. He felt as if he had taken advantage of her, given her drunken state of mind. He had just kissed someone nearly 22 years younger than himself; even more than that, he had been meeting with someone nearly 22 years younger than himself each night for months. And what about Kathy?! He hadn't even taken his wife into consideration. Scaring him even more, was the fact that she had not registered as a consequence of his actions. He hadn't even thought of his wife as a reason to not kiss Audrey. He had used work as excuses to leave dinner parties of Kathy's but was never late to Joe's; never cancelled. Elliot knew that there were some problems in his and Kathy's marriage, but there was no way that it could have run that deep. Could it be that he didn't love Kathy anymore? Did he love Audrey? No, he couldn't. How had that girl spin his life in circles so badly?

She was so young; it plagued him for the longest time. It had been nearly three weeks until Elliot returned to the diner. Apprehensive as to how their next meeting would go, afraid she wouldn't be there, afraid she wouldn't see him, afraid she'd give him the temptation of kissing her again, but most of all, afraid he wouldn't be able to reject that temptation. But his fears, however legitimate, were unfounded; upon his arrival, she acted just the same as before the kiss, though less bashful with physical contact; brushing his fingers while reaching for something, tapping her shoe near his, her eyes sparkling and a coy smile painted on her lips.

Everything had gone back to basically normal, as normal as this almost-fling could have been, until Elliot slipped up. Kathy had taken the girls and left for the night after a rather tumultuous argument, and he had confided in Jack. Jack Daniels, and Jack, was never too good at keeping secrets. Fumbling on his daughter's computer, logged into her AOL account and decided to send an e-mail. Typing in a screen name he had seen over Audrey's shoulder on her iBook, he started typing.

"Audreyy I don't knoe what it iss that you do t o me to

keep you in my mind always but youdo. I can't keep my

mind on anything else during m y day . The times you

kissed me during chrsitmas was amazing, I don't lovee

katyh any more. I thinkj I love yo u."

Even his typing slurred. He has sent it and passed out; it was not until the next morning that he woke to a headache and a blinking screen. She had written back. Elliot's mind cleared the fog of his hangover and his actions last night blazed on a screen, as he read through the mail message his jaw dropped.

"Elliot, I am assuming this is you Elliot, even though

I'm sure you wouldn't have chosen the screen name

"Dramatechgirl16" so I'm gonna assume you're on

someone else's email. All I have to say to you Elliot

is sober up. You're going to regret saying anything

once you're sober, so please don't bother. When you're

ready, we'll talk about what all this means. Meet me for a

coffee?

A."

And that night he did meet her for coffee, in the same booth in the same place, and during the last month or so of their relationship, it was strained. She pursued him and he just ran away. He hid in ambivalence and uncertainty and kept her on a string. He was so busy trying to make things work with Kathy, that he pushed her out of his mind, though never missed an appointment at Joes. On rare occasion they'd steal a kiss, or a hug that lasted a bit too long, but it would turn cold. It all lead up to that night, and now that it had past, all Elliot had was the memories and the time line that paced through his brain, clutching that napkin and wondering what the hell he had just done.

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**(end flash back)**

It would be 2 years before Audrey Miora showed up in Elliot Stablers' life again. He stopped going to Joe's, he avoided that part of town completely. No matter how hard he tried to keep Kathy happy, a year into it, she left. So he spent his time stabilizing his own life. Waking up in the morning, he had no idea that this day was the one that would change his life forever. Audrey Rose Miora would waltz back into his life, on a path that he had prayed would never cross.

"Elliot, come on we've got a situation," Olivia Benson said and almost, if on just basic instinct, he grabbed his coat and coffee off his desk, and followed her out to the squad car to go to the scene.

"Get an ID?" he said.

"No, but we think she's a victim of our man," Benson said gripping the steering wheel intensely. She was always just as effected as he was, if not more, when it came to rape cases. "Our Man" meant the current serial killer at large, he tied up, raped, brutalized, sodomized and cut the throat of his victims.

"Is she post-mortem?" the first words out of Detective Stabler's mouth as the reached the building, looking surprisingly familiar, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

"No, surprisingly, she was able to free her hands and grab a cell call 911 and a bus got here before she bled out," said a crime scene technician, "she's on route to the ER"

Benson looked up at the building, "about three flights up?" she said.

"Yeah, apartment, 4-A. The scene is a mess," the technician turned to take his clip board to his car.

A few minutes and about 60 steps later, Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler arrived at the scene; walking past the door frame of 4-A and through the yellow caution tape, headed towards the bed room. Passing technicians taking samples from the living room, "the perp left through the front door?" Olivia said questioningly.

"Yep," said the bowed head, "came in through the window, tracked glass through here, pretty sloppy actually."

Elliot, calling upon hall his years of experience as a police detective, still strained to keep a straight face as he took in the details if the scene.

The victim's dark wooden four poster bed and the cream colored curtains were splattered with blood spray. The cream colored jersey sheets and pillows were stained red by the pool of blood that lay in the middle of the mattress.

"It's amazing she had the strength to untie herself and call for help," Elliot said.

"I hope she stabilizes enough for us to get in some questioning," Olivia said as she walked over to the window to examine the broken glass.

"This has got to be our man, Liv," Elliot said pointing to various aspects of the scene with a pen, "here is where he broke in," pointing to the shattered window. "She must have been in the shower at the time, or just getting out," gesturing to the wet towel by the bathroom door, "he must have lunged and grabbed her before she could scream, or she took the other approach and tried to question him before he attacked. There had to have been a struggle, she mace'd him," pointing to the canister by the bed table, and, touching the wet floor, said, "and yet he still over powered her?"

"Goggles perhaps?" Bensons said walking over to the side of the bed.

"The same nylon rope used on the other victims," Elliot leaned in close to the bed posts, "the right one couldn't have been tied properly, knot slipped, purely luck that she survived." He shook his head as Olivia walked towards the bathroom, following a blood trail.

"He must have washed the blood off, the son of a bitch, sloppy everywhere else but— ELLIOT!" Olivia shouted and with three long strides, Elliot ran to the bathroom.

"Elliot look!" she said pointing the mirror, "what does that mean?"

Written in lipstick, in a scratchy masculine handwriting, on the mirror was a message: "LOOK AGAIN STABLER" with an arrow pointing down to a photo, taped backwards against the glass. A hole, missing from the middle and its location, was the only thing unique about the photo; it was probably ripped from a picture frame.

"Look for an empty frame, dust for prints," Elliot called over his shoulder.

Olivia carefully pulled the photo off the mirror, making sure not to touch the tape, in case the perp left fingerprints turned it around for both her and Stabler to see.

The picture was of a woman with her hands on her hips wearing a bathing suit and t shirt. Her shirt was wet, and there were droplets of water all over her body, though she was missing a face, from her stance, you could tell she was laughing. A woman of medium build, a good muscle tone on her arms and thighs; a normal 20 something year old enjoying a day at the beach in a black and white polka dot bikini. The white t shirt was nearly see through, revealing her full breasts in her bikini top, and nestling between them, a pair of dog tags.

"So the sick fuck knows my name?" Elliot said, and as if he couldn't help it, he looked again, noticing as his heart began to race and shock poured over him like ice water, that there, below her index fingers, as her hands rested on her hips, were two puzzle piece tattoos.

He stumbled backwards and hit the wall, "oh god." Why hadn't it clicked before? The squad car had passed Joe's, and he had chosen to ignore the biting feeling of regret in the pit of his stomach. He had walked Audrey up those same 3 flights of stairs, kissed her against the front door, which was now bashed in. How could he have not noticed!? His crime scene was her bedroom, her bed, oh god, her blood! Audrey, his beautiful, vibrant Audrey had her throat cut, she'd been tied down and…he couldn't even bear to think about what had happened. Why had it been so much easier when she was an anonymous victim?

"Elliot!! Elliot!!!" Olivia had been calling his name trying to snap him out of his own thoughts, "WHAT does this all mean?"

"Liv, Audrey, Audrey Miora is the victim's name; she's 23 now and god, I have to get to the hospital." He felt sick.

"You know her?" Olivia said placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Per-personal friend," he said somewhere between fury and breaking down, "Liv, I have got to go to the hospital, I have to find out if she's d-"

"Go Elliot, go ahead, I'll cover this and see you back at the station. Call me."

Time started skipping around for Elliot Stabler, one second he was rushing out of Audrey's mangled apartment, the next he was in his own head smiling at her as she laughed, while making fun of some people in her class. One moment he was in the squad car, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, the next, he was back in the diner, reliving the first time he saw Audrey. One stop light, two stop lights, three blocks; at a light he pulls out a worn folded and visibly falling apart napkin from his coat pocket. "You're going to be just fine." Stabler said, in an attempt to comfort himself rather and stay calm more than anything, as he put it back into his pocket, patting the space it was in, above his heart. He had kept that tear soaked napkin, god knows why, but it was a little reminder of what he had done. Three lights, four, turn left, another block, his mind wasn't even on the road; he was just speeding.

If only he hadn't let her leave, if he would have protected her, or something. If he had been around, maybe he could have warned her that there was someone dangerous out there. For God's sake the sick-o knew his name! What if the only reason she was attacked was because of her involvement with him! It was his fault she was ra- Oh God, he couldn't bear to think of that happening to her. It was his fault! It must have been his fault! Oh there was so much blood, what if she died?! No, she couldn't, he had to go faster. Panic ripped Elliot Stabler into pieces as his car flew through the New York streets.

One second he was brushing a stray hair away from Audrey's face, stuck in that vinyl booth, and the next, standing in front of a nurse's station.

"Aud- Audrey Miora, I need to see a trauma patient named, Audrey Miora" Elliot said looking down to the middle-aged Hispanic nurse.

"Are you family?" she said looking through a file.

"No, I am a friend," he tried to read the name on the file she was reading.

"Then I am sorry, there is no way I can admit you," she said still rifling through the file in her presumptuous pink scrubs.

Elliot pulled out his badge, "I need to see her."

That grabbed her attention, "I am sorry Officer, I cannot let you see her right now, she's in surgery, the procedure should be done in a few minutes, and I can let you wait in her room." She said getting up from her seat.

"Thank you so much," Elliot followed the pink scrubs down the hallway, the anesthetic smell burned his nose as he traveled.

Sitting down on a chair in the corner of the room, his cell rang.

"Stabler" he said flipping open the phone.

"She called your name" an obviously mechanically disguised voice said.

"Who is this you sick-" Elliot was on the edge of his seat.

"The last thing she said before I cut her throat, your name."

"I swear to God you sick fuck, I will find you"

Audrey's recorded voice crackled over the phone line: "Help! Oh GOD! HELP! ELLIOT!!" followed by a scream, the sound of the knife gashing her throat, and the gurgling of her blood pouring from the wound. Then the line went dead.

Elliot shouted and threw the phone against the wall, smashing it into pieces.

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**(Yup, cliffhanger. Will update as soon as possible but sit tight kiddies, more drama will follow. Leave oodles of comments. :3 -ink'd)**


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